


By All Means

by corvusdraconis, Dragon_and_the_Rose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bhaal - Freeform, Follow the Directions, Gen, Karma has a long memory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23184988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvusdraconis/pseuds/corvusdraconis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_and_the_Rose/pseuds/Dragon_and_the_Rose
Summary: SSHG, AU The Ministry put some really strict rules on Snape's inheritance to prevent him from getting his fortune(s) back. Harry is sent to be an unwilling witness to Snape's inability to satisfy their conditions. They say that the best revenge is living well, and Harry may end up having some rather startling revelations to the extent of exactly how stupid the rules really are. (Utter crack. Not fooling anyone) M for safety.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 65
Kudos: 357





	By All Means

**Summary:** SSHG, AU The Ministry put some really strict rules on Snape's inheritance to prevent him from getting his fortune(s) back. Harry is sent to be an unwilling witness to Snape's inability to satisfy their conditions. They say that the best revenge is living well, and Harry may end up having some rather startling revelations to the extent of exactly _**how**_ stupid the rules really are. (Utter crack. Not fooling anyone) M for safety.

 **Beta Love:** Publishing unsupervised! _**AHHHH!**_

_Busted, bird! Dragon_

Dragon and the Rose found me! Again!

 **Warnings:** Ron bashing, disregarding of canon, acts of stupidity rampant and demonic cuteness

This story is in no way affiliated or associated with the Corona Covid-19 virus, which is apparently afflicting many an autocorrect when people attempt to type my name on their phones. _***Facepalm***_

* * *

**By All Means**

A Shorty-Short Short by Corvus Draconis

_My failures have been errors in judgment, not of intent._

**Ulysses S. Grant**

* * *

" _Must found an independent line of magic as evidenced by the conception of a magical child that creates a manifestation of 'the Bloom' around the permanent residence of the wizard and witch whose union is consensual and willing."_

Harry stared at the parchment as he walked over the threshold of Snape's cottage. His boot went splat as he stepped in a steaming pile of—

"Shite," Harry hissed, pointing his wand at his boots to clean them off.

The plot of fanged geraniums rattled at him, unappreciative of the stream of water and dung that went from the soles of his boots to their petals. Even more strangely, the geraniums seemed to grow a bit taller after being pelted, and one particularly ornery geranium bit his ankle.

Harry snatched his leg away from the offending plant, glaring.

The geranium rattled at him, quite unimpressed.

Harry looked around to see that the entire back garden was lush and fertile with a wide array of flower beds and vegetable trellises. He was pretty sure there were both magical and Muggle vegetables mixed in together just as a Cornish blue pixie flew straight into his forehead, slid down his nose and bit him soundly on the lip.

" _ **Ow!"**_ Harry yelped, swatting the offending creature with his scroll like a Beater playing Quidditch.

The pixie flew off, making tiny cursing noises at him as it fled to hide in the foliage.

There were serpents on one of the trellises, each sporting a colourful mane of rainbow feathers. They hissed at him threateningly as he neared their nest. A golden hind raised its head from the tall foliage, his antlers draped in growing flowers and his mouth full of tender shoots. The hind snorted at him, his tail flicking as a new deposit of dung was spread into the undergrowth. The nearby plants shuddered and grew visibly faster, much to Harry's surprise.

He shook his head and read the parchment to find that a large magical checkbox had a shimmering golden check in it.

He frowned and read the next line. " _Must be consummated on the night of the full moon in the spring for the best blessings of fertility to ensure the continuation of the magical line."_

The checkbox had a large golden checkmark in the box before he finished reading the words.

"Who the hell writes this shite?" Harry growled at the parchment.

The parchment did not reply as he had hoped.

" _Witch cannot be aware of any monetary benefit prior to agreeing to a willing and consensual bond of magic to avoid the possibility of marriage strictly for financial gain."_

_**Shinggg.** _

A new checkmark appeared in the box before the line.

" _Must have a magical creature guardian for the home of at least XXXX status guarding the home to defend the home and family."_

"Oh, what the f—" Harry cursed. "Even the Malfoys don't have anything like that."

"Harcourt, if you are going to pass gas like that, you can bloody well do it outside, you enormous walking bag of toxic flatulence," Snape's voice snarled as the door opened.

A huge eagle head popped out followed by an equally large leonine body, eagle front talons, and a drooping, tufted tail.

_**Pffffffbbbthhhh!** _

The gryphon farted again, and it smelled like something horrific had died and decomposed in the middle of a blueberry patch.

"You are _**not**_ allowed to drink fruit juice anymore!" Snape's voice yelled after the great beast.

Harcourt, seemingly upset with being forced outdoors, hopped up onto the roof and groomed himself assiduously, passing gas every few minutes.

Harry just stared, completely missing how the next checkbox filled in.

Harry was starting to wonder how in bloody hell Snape had managed to wrangle, befriend, or otherwise convince a gryphon to take up residence with him.

Harry shook his head, frowning, then looked at the parchment again.

" _No glamours can be used during consummation_ -oh, who the _**hell**_ does that?" Harry demanded while staring darkly at the offending parchment. "That's a bloody given even if—"

The golden check formed as he read it, and he rolled his eyes. "Why I have to be on the property to have this parchment read is stupid."

"Coming in, Potter, or are you just going to stand in my garden and curse at a wad of parchment?"

Harry muttered, reading as he went, almost clocking himself out on the door frame. " _A Ministry-sent official must verify that the wizard is not a eunuch and capable of proper and traditional fertilisation as befitting an honourable wizard—_ _**WHAT?!"**_

As Harry's head collided with low-flying—

Harry ended up flat on his arse on the stone floor, his abused bum throbbing as his spine tried to curse at him in fluent Yiddish profanity.

A dazed and irritated dragonet spewed out something foul in draconic, picked up the small silver cauldron it was carrying, and flew off to places unseen.

"Do get off the floor, Potter," Snape's voice snapped irritably as he held out a hand to him.

Harry put out his hand to grab Snape's until he realised that Snape was a hundred percent skyclad wearing not a stitch— absolutely _nothing_ — but a rather smug expression.

" _ **EAGGHHHHHH!"**_ Harry blurted, back-crawling on his arse as he tried to reverse spider (or awkward octopus) his way far, far, far from the sight of Snape's intimidating (not to mention impressive) bits.

"Severus, I thought I heard— oh, good morning Harry," Hermione greeted her best friend over a mug of steaming tea. "We were expecting a Ministry representative to show up today. I wasn't thinking it was going to be you, though."

Harry, who had been quite busy fixedly staring at the floor, suddenly jerked up his head in utter shock. "Hermione?!"

Hermione sipped her tea, seemingly unphased. "Last I checked."

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, it _would_ be kind of silly of me to not live with my husband, Harry, honestly."

"Your _**husband?!**_ "

"Unless you see some other dead sexy naked wizard with a potions mastery in this house?"

" _ **HERMIONE!"**_

"Yes, that _is_ my name."

"How the _**hell**_ can he be your husband!?"

"Hrm, how to explain such a complicated thing as marriage, Potter? However shall I begin?" Severus drawled lazily, his slim alabaster fingers wrapping around a tea mug before he sipped it.

"I know what marriage is! Now can you _**please**_ cover yourself?!"

"I cannot, Potter. I fear I must await your official 'inspection' as it were." Snape continued to drink his tea while leaning casually against the kitchen counter in his starkers.

Harry shook his head, staring avidly at the stone floor. "I really don't want to stare at your bits, sir."

"I don't particularly want anyone but my wife staring at my bits, Potter, but unfortunately there are certain legalities on the line in this latest asinine manoeuvre by the Ministry to steal away my heritage."

Hermione frowned. "The Ministry is trying to invalidate our marriage?"

Severus touched her jaw and smiled. "No, my gorgeous girl. They are trying to invalidate me. They have been attempting to do so ever since I came of age, only before I did not care. Now, however, I do." His expression darkened. "I have a wife, a home, and a future family to provide for, and I intend to give them everything I did not have."

Hermione's expression softened. "Severus, you know I don't—"

Severus kissed her forehead. "That is exactly why you deserve more."

A large gryphon head poked through the kitchen window.

"Stay out there until your bout of flatulence has finished killing off our neighbours, Harcourt!" Severus demanded.

The gryphon's feathers wilted as he gave a disappointed sounding whine before retracting his head from the window.

_**Pfffffhhhhhhbbbb!** _

The sound of an annoyed hind kicking a gryphon squarely in the face before retreating into the garden came shortly after.

"Aww," Hermione said sympathetically. "He can't help it, love."

"He certainly knew better than to drink that entire cauldron of blueberry cordial!"

Hermione gave him a look.

Severus gave her a disgruntled-looking sour expression.

Hermione leaned in and gave him a searing kiss direct to the mouth, withdrawing slowly with a very heated look dancing from eyes to mouth.

Severus' erection proudly displayed itself in all its engorged glory.

_**Shhhhhiiiingg!** _

A golden chime rang throughout the house as the parchment burst into a glowing shower of fireworks as an officious Ministry voice announced, "Congratulations on satisfying all the clauses of a happy Wizarding marriage, Lord Severus Tobias Snape. You and your magically-bound Lady-wife are now able to access all property and assets along with the accrued interest that was held in trust on the condition of the complete fulfilment of all of the terms established by the Ministry in accordance with the Magic Preservation Marriage Law, which was signed into effect by then-Minister Harold Bartholomew Minchum in the year nineteen hundred and seventy-seven."

"What marriage law?" Hermione asked, the question made slightly muffled by her moan of pleasure as one dark wizard gnawed on her neck.

"Merlin, could you two _**please**_ stop doing that?!"

_**SHIIIIINNG!** _

"Extra interest has been added to your accounts due to the enthusiastic completion of all terms in a timely manner. Thank you for doing your part in making Wizarding Britain magical."

The scroll rolled itself up and jetted out the open window, smacked poor Harcourt on the back of the head, and then zoomed off in another direction.

The annoyed gryphon squawked out a torrent of abuse in gryphonese, letting out a sour fart in protest. The nearby mini-quetzalcoatls spat venom at him, annoyed by the oppressive cloud of fruity foulness surrounding a certain flatulent gryphon.

Severus smiled, an evil glint in his impossibly black eyes. "Long ago, when I was but a twinkle in my father's eye, the Ministry wanted to punish my mum's choice in husbands by locking her offspring into the Marriage Clause— and olden legendary proof of a pure magical blessing of magic and fertility— and thus seal away her assets, inheritance, and mine as well until the Clause was met. I, being young and oblivious, knew nothing of it. I was used to being poor and even more used to being undervalued. I scraped by thinking that was but the norm for such things. When I worked for Hogwarts, I hardly had a use for those funds, but it wasn't until I survived the second war that it became clear that something or someone had squirrelled away the majority of my monies without my knowledge, locking them away from my own sight."

Severus' smirk was wicked, tugging his lips into a firm line with only the edges slightly bent. "Imagine my horror when I did my research and found that the only way I could access the money I had rightfully made and the assets my mum had left for me upon becoming an adult was to satisfy the Marriage Clause— a Clause meant to allow the Ministry to hold on to all of my mum's inheritance and the Prince family legacy and even my own hard work for the so-called betterment of society."

Hermione looked like she was going to blow up on his behalf, but Severus put a long, slender finger to her lips.

"The clause requires the lady of my choice to be oblivious to the situation lest she agree to marry me for reasons impure," he said with a dry chuckle. "They thought, perhaps rightly, who could possibly want such an unattractive scarecrow of a dark wizard? Yet— one of their very own stipulations was that there be no glamour between us, my wife, so when you see me, my love— what do you see?"

"You're hardly a scarecrow," Hermione said with a frown. "Unlike the scowling, brooding man who vultured over our cauldrons like our every breath was a terrible mistake. Your nose is more refined, Roman in character. Your fingers are long and deft like a pianist's. You have the most delicate, attractive canines— almost like fangs. Your hair is as dark as midnight with lovely tinges of blue— not greasy at all."

Severus chuckled. "How little they knew of my mum's treachery in the face of utter indignation. She made sure to cast a glamour upon her son the very moment he was born— so much so that he grew up believing it— until one witch saw him for who he really was. You."

Severus' eyebrow arched at Harry as he turned to face him. With one gesture, entirely wandless, his robes arranged themselves around him in the familiar curtain of endless, unrelenting black wool. "Now, the glamour simply isn't needed anymore."

Harry gasped as he saw the man he believed was Severus Snape straighten and crack his neck, and his hair fell about his face in a silken onyx curtain against his pale but not remotely ugly face. His teeth flashed, white and straight instead of stained and crooked, perfect fang-like teeth replacing the jagged, gnarled canines of a decidedly imperfect smile. The beak-like nose was now straight and aquiline, no longer hooked and the stuff of nightmares any first-year potions student (or Neville Longbottom) would attest to.

He was no coldly beautiful Malfoy, but he was definitely something to behold.

His silken eyebrow lifted up into his hairline, and Harry felt his legs turn to jelly. Oh, Merlin, no. He was _**not**_ having that response to Snape. _**No!**_

Yet, when Severus turned to Hermione and enfolded her into his arms, there was no doubt of the protective, possessive fierceness in his gaze even as the crackle of magic between them seemed to cause the energy around them to glow a brilliant, sunlike radiance.

Magic had blessed their union; there was no doubt of that at _all_.

Severus brought Hermione's hand to his mouth, the ghost of a kiss upon her knuckles. "Shall we head to Gringotts, my lady wife? I am sure the goblins are nigh _ecstatic_ to once again have access to what was forcibly sealed away from their tending."

Severus turned his head to meet Harry's gaze, one deadly eyebrow arching into his hair. The corner of his lips twitched. "Do keep Harcourt out of the blueberries, Mr Potter. He is truly a deadly creature from the rear."

With a crack, they were both gone.

_**PFfffbbbbbbBBBBB!** _

The sound of Harcourt's flatulence was the last thing Harry heard as his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed spreadeagle, flat on his back on the kitchen floor.

"Some Auror," the nearby magical mirror commented dryly.

**SSHG-SSHG-SSHG**

Ron was ready to finally do as his mum had been nagging him to do: settle down and start a nice big family. The trains of adoring fans had gotten much more dull and predictable, and he decided he should have a wife at home taking care of his kids. It was the only natural thing for a bloke to do at his age as he was almost in his mid-twenties. He was practically an old man, so he had to get a move on to make sure he had enough kids.

As horrible as it would be to be saddled down, it would be pretty bad if all his kids ended up coming from different mothers. It would be too hard to keep that many witches happy with all their nagging and want for fidelity from him. It was far better when they competed for his attention and were willing to be more reasonable to obtain his affections.

Ron sighed. Well, he knew who he had to marry, and it would get her out of that stuffy Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures office. Sure, she was embarrassing in her fights for creature rights, but at least he could throw a few of those boring books at her and keep her at home where she belonged.

Give her enough time and she'd come to realise that taking care of the kids would give her plenty to do.

As the elevator opened up into the main reception room of the DRMC, Ron sniffed, looking around.

A quaffle-sized arachnid hopped up at his entry, all six eyes focused on him. " _Oh, a guest!"_

Ron immediately whipped out his wand and aimed it at the giant spider.

" _Awww,"_ the spider said, drooping. " _Why do they always point wands at me?"_

"Auror Weasley," the receptionist said sharply. "Please do not attack my assistant."

The receptionist snagged the arachnid with one arm and cuddled it, tickling his abdomen.

" _Heheheheh!"_ the arachnid giggled, squirming.

She set him down. "Augustus, if you could please fetch me the guest badges?"

" _Yes, ma'am!"_ the spider said, quickly scuttling off to find the badges.

"I'm here to see Hermione," Ron said, slightly irritated that the attractive receptionist wasn't a fan. Fans were always so happy to help a bloke out.

Ron fidgeted with discomfort as the spider returned with a guest badge silked to his back.

" _Job's done!"_ the spider announced, bouncing in front of the receptionist.

"Thank you, Augustus!" the woman cooed, taking the badge and pinning it to Ron's robes.

Ron fidgeted, the very thought of a spider-brought badge making him quite uncomfortable.

"She's in the back," the receptionist said, waving him back.

" _I can take you back_!" Augustus announced eagerly.

"No!" Ron yelled, making a face, rushing by.

" _Awww,"_ the spider said, drooping so his body touched the desk.

The receptionist cuddled the unhappy spider, ruffling his fluffiness.

" _Ooo!"_ the spider said. " _I_ _ **like**_ _cuddles."_

Neither of them noticed Ron practically running down the hallway and away.

**SSHG-SSHG-SSHG**

"So, 'Mione, I think it's time we went and made it official," Ron said, leaning on her desk.

"You and Lavender finally going to tie the knot, Ron?" Hermione said as she fed the gryphon kit on her desk.

The young gryphon chirred and placed her paws on Hermione's chest and bumped her fluff-covered eagle head against Hermione's chin.

_**Kiirrr!** _

"Alasie, you're so incorrigible!" Hermione huffed, taking the kit in her arms and flipping her on her back to rub her belly. The kit purr chirped happily, having gained exactly what she wanted.

"Don't be coy, Hermione," Ron said, his lips turning into a frown. "It's time _we_ got married."

"Ohh, Ron," Hermione said, tossing her hair to the side. "I don't think that would be wise. I have a very possessive, jealous wizard. He would definitely frown on such a thing."

"You don't have to lie," Ron said as he opened a simple-looking wooden box on Hermione's shelf. A brass plaque clearly marked: _**Do Not Open This Box**_ adorned the lid.

" _ **Ron!"**_ Hermione's voice yelled. " _ **Don't—"**_

But her voice just fell away as he looked into the soulful eyes of a sapphire dragonet. Golden eyes and fine scales sparkled, and he couldn't help himself as he caressed the dragon's head, wobbling. "Where have you been all my life?" he blurted adoringly.

Wisps of his magic seemed to ooze out of his eyes and into the dragonet's mouth.

"Bloody _hell_ ," Hermione cursed, snatching the dragonet up in her hands and hastily shoving it back into the box, spelling the box shut. "Doesn't the Aurory teach you _**not**_ to touch things without checking it first?!"

" _ **Nooo!"**_ Ron cried, reaching out like a kid to a coveted sweets jar. He slammed into Hermione, desperate to get to the box and open it again.

"It's a _demon_ , Ron!"

" _ **Noooo**_ , she's all that is love and fair in all the _**woooooorld!"**_

They tussled together until—

" _ **Petrificus totalus**_ **!"** Hermione cried, and Ron promptly stiffened and fell backwards onto the desk, startling poor Alasie, who promptly mauled his face with her beak and talons.

Hermione scooped up the gryphon kit before she could maim Ron's face any further, calming her down.

"Is everything alright in here, Master Snape?" a voice called from the door. "Oh dear!" The young intern stared at Auror Weasley's petrified body.

"Please take Auror Weasley to the infirmary and make sure he's bound in magical shackles, Miss Caroway," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "It will take at least a year to break the compulsions on him to keep him from looking in the demon box."

"The box that says ' _ **Do not open on penalty of losing your human soul'**_?" Miss Caroway asked.

"Yes, that one," Hermione muttered, gesturing to the shelf.

"Ah, so I see that Mr Weasley has made his appearance," Severus drawled, one eyebrow raising into his hair. "I came to escort you to dinner, my lady wife, and I see why you were late to join me in the lobby."

Hermione sighed as Miss Caroway made a wide-eyed fawning expression at Severus, practically drooling. "The infirmary, Miss Caroway." The witch didn't move.

" _ **Now."**_ Severus' voice was sharp like a scalpel, and the fear of every first-year echoed in her expression as Miss Caroway hastily stumbled out of the room with Ron's stunned, levitating body.

Hermione sighed as Severus pulled her into an embrace. "Fear not, I have no plans to ravish anyone but you, my dear."

Hermione smiled at him, amused but tired. "It's a bit hard seeing so many people throwing themselves at my husband. I sometimes think that one of them will be—"

"Don't be a dunderhead," Severus said, kissing her forehead. "You saw me for who I was before anyone, and that alone before anything else means everything. That doesn't even mean the glamour, before your head runs off you silly girl. You accepted me— for _me_."

"Who else would you be?" Hermione asked, snort-chuckling.

He gestured out the door. "They will continue to see me as what the Prophet writes before me. You, however, will see me for who I truly am. The Slytherin Bastard Extraordinaire."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Alasie hopped onto Hermione's shoulders and swatted at Severus, claws out, jealously guarding her person from his attention.

Hermione cuddled the gryphon kit. "Don't be so obnoxious, my little love," she chided. The kit calmed and chirred.

"As if Harcourt isn't enough of a pest," Severus said with a sniff.

Hermione smiled as she looped her arm around his. "The hazards of working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, love."

"Being adopted by too many feathered, scaled, and furry beasts?"

"Never too many," Hermione said with a grin. "Alasie says so."

" _ **CHIRR!"**_ the kit interjected in fervent agreement.

"She is hardly the voice of unbiased opinion," Severus said, giving the kit the eye.

If a gryphon was capable of sticking out her tongue, Alasie was doing her best approximation.

"So, how was it that Weasley managed to open the demon box?" Severus asked.

"Aurors have that stupid clause that allows them through our protective wards in case they have to move things in a hurry," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "He is also incapable of following even the simplest of directions."

"I could have told you all this before," Severus pointed out.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm well aware, but I _had_ thought between his age and Auror training that he grew out of that bad habit."

"Obviously not," Severus said dryly. "It wasn't as if your office door wasn't plastered with warning signs stating ' _ **Soul Magic Division'**_ and ' _ **Do Not Enter Without Soul-Anchoring Protection**_ ', etc. etc."

Hermione drooped. "Honestly, I never thought he'd come in here. It's way too bookish and stuffy for his tastes."

"So why _did_ he come in?" Severus asked, frowning.

Hermione slumped. "To ask me to marry him."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.

He opened the demon box with one finger and the little "dragonet" sprang out and slithered up his arm and cuddled up against his neck with a purr. For a moment, Severus' eyes seemed to go fully and wholly black, and a fine set of phantom wings and claws overshadowed his figure. "How fortunate for us that our souls are bound to each other— and are unable to be stolen."

Hermione shrugged. "How very fortunate for me that my husband's family heritage was unlocked in so many ways other than in finances?" she said with a tug of a smile on her lips. "Come, I am positively starving. Dinner?"

Severus nodded.

"Do I have to tell you to behave, Bhaal?" Hermione asked the petite demon-dragon. She pointed to the box as if to remind it of the consequences of getting out of line.

Bhaal cheeped and rushed into her hair, hiding, only the tip of her tail sticking out around her neck like an ornate choker.

"You spoil her terribly," Severus said, clucking his tongue.

"Well, she _did_ just deal with Ronald for me," Hermione said. "I think that earns her a little dessert, yes?"

Severus made a heavy sigh. "I _suppose_."

He tucked his wife, the gryphon kit, and her demonic dragonet against him as they walked out of the office, closing the door behind them.

Unseen by all, a clutter of dark, soul-catching spiders descended upon the now-empty office, tidying up the work space and securely locking it down until their mistress' return.

Only their glowing red eyes glimmered in the darkness like a swarm of evil fireflies.

**SSHG-SSHG-SSHG**

Harry shook his head as he sat next to the chair by Ron's bedside. "Ron, mate, I swear you haven't learned a damned thing about controlling that reckless impulsiveness of yours."

" _Bhaaaaalll,_ " Ron moaned deliriously. "So _beautiful_. She _wants_ me."

Molly was weeping somewhere out of Harry's sight, but he could hear her wracking sobs. She hadn't really stopped in days as she lamented her poor boy's plight. Harry, however, was all out of pity, starting with the Ministry that had tried so avidly to fuck over Snape and ending with his sodding idiot of a best mate who had the potential to be so much more than what he'd been.

"Why isn't his fiancée here?" Molly lamented bitterly. "Why isn't Hermione here to be with our Ronnie in his time of need?"

Harry jolted. "What?" he said, standing up and walking over to where Molly was.

"Why isn't Hermione here with my Ron?!" Molly wailed. "Holding his hand and supporting him!"

Harry frowned. "Molly, Hermione _isn't_ his fiancée. She's married to someone else. It was a magic-blessed marriage. I was ordered to go there to witness its— lengthy confirmation."

" _ **What?!"**_ Molly said with a shocked gasp. "That _**can't**_ be! He and Hermione were _**meant!**_ "

"Meant to be _friends_ ," Harry corrected with a frown and furrow of his brows. "Surely you noticed how unsuited they were and how they fought like Kneazles and Crups almost all the time." _Hell, I'm not even sure they were ever meant to be friends,_ he thought wryly.

"But Percy assured me that everything was going to be okay," Molly cried, returning to her sobbing.

Harry's eyebrow began to twitch. _What the hell did Percy have to do with it?_

**SSHG-SSHG-SSHG**

Harry slammed the thick stack of parchment down on Percy's desk with a dark scowl that would have made Snape himself proud. "What is the _**meaning**_ of this?!"

Percy eyed the parchments in question with a frown. "Marriage sealed assets law," he said, itching his ear with one finger.

"Why is _**YOUR**_ name doing on documents that dated all the way back to nineteen seventy-seven?"

Percy sniffed, setting his jaw stubbornly. "They are perfectly legal documents. It's not _my_ fault I happened to be the one who ended up sorting them out."

"It would have expired the conditions since Snape was the only Prince heir left had you not renewed the contract!"

"Assets that would have been _**far**_ better used for the betterment of the Wizarding world than rotting away in his Gringotts vault!" Percy bit out through gritted teeth.

Harry seemed to realise something. "That was your job then, was it? Making sure the Ministry got their funds for all those projects?"

"Not sure why you're complaining, Potter," Percy huffed. "It was because of my good work that they had funds to hire _you_."

"Besides," Percy said with a curl of his lips. "There were a number of pressing Ministry projects that _needed_ that money."

"And when those people satisfied the conditions?" Harry hissed.

Percy snorted. "Not bloody likely. The money was just going to rot away. I found a use for it."

"And why would you tell your mum about it?" Harry said, placing his hands down flat on the desk as he stared into Percy's face.

Percy set his jaw. "Look. Little brother was out there sowing his oats in every witch that crooked her wand at him. It was embarrassing. Mum wanted him to settle down and marry, and she had her heart set on Hermione. Only Hermione was too damn interested in that greasy old git to pay him any mind, so I just gave him a bit more reason to realise it was hopeless. That he'd _never_ be able to provide for her. Be a respectable wizard. Once he realised it was hopeless, he'd stop leading her on, and Ron would have his chance just like mum wanted. All I did was tip him off that the contract existed."

Harry's face went from red to pale as realisation set in. He burst into laughter, laughing so hard that he wheezed, clutching at his chest.

Percy looked at him with a puzzled expression, clearly not understanding what was so funny.

Harry laughed and laughed, staggering out the door as he shooed invisible flies away with his hands. "All _your_ fault. _**Hahahahaha!**_ All _you_. _**HAHAHAAHHAAH!"**_

"What the hell is _**wrong**_ with you, Potter?" Percy yelled after him.

"You sodding _idiot_ , Percy," Harry gasped. "There is only one person in the world intelligent enough to keep up with Hermione Granger, and you know what Hermione Granger does with impossible lists? She itemises every single item and makes it a personal goal, complete with coloured flags and notes in the margins. Imagine then, what you gave Severus Snape."

Harry laughed even harder. "You didn't give him a list of failures, Percy. You gave him a list of achievements any Slytherin would be happy to tick off the list. When Molly comes crying to you, be sure to tell her it was all _your_ fault. _**Hahahahaha!"**_

Harry's laughter echoed in the hallways as Percy's face wrinkled in confusion.

"What the hell is _**wrong**_ with that bloke?!"

**SSHG-SSHG-SSHG**

* * *

_**Ministry Suffering Budget Cuts Fires Head of DRCMC Soul-Magic Division** _

_**Hundreds of Ministry Officials Attempt to Sacrifice Themselves to the Mysterious, Unknown "Bhaal"!** _

_The Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Soul-Magic Division had to let Master Hermione Snape go as department head due to a number of deep budget cuts stemming from a long-standing "loan" of funds borrowed by the Ministry on vault savings of families held under the Marriage Asset Law._

_Thanks to one family having actually met the conditions of the Marriage Assets Law, the funds had to be returned in full along with a high rate of interest from the Ministry coffers compounded by the number of years the contract remained active._

_Master Snape's office was initially sealed off for the safety of the uninitiated to the DRCMC, but Ministry Officials were sent to clean out her office and make sure that she hadn't stolen any Ministry property on her way out._

_A number of Ministry officials had entered the office and not yet returned before Unspeakables were sent in only to find that hundreds of Ministry envoys, officials, and all those in between had opened a box clearly marked_ " _ **Do Not Open"**_ _and were immediately driven insane. Each had thrown themselves at each other to fight for the glory of "Bhaal."_

_Said Ministry employees have been built their very own specialised ward at St Mungos thanks to their inability to house them in any other pre-existing unit._

_How many soul-creatures, fiends, and otherwise that were released thanks to the Ministry's carelessness is currently unknown. While Master Granger's recordkeeping was impeccable, they were also written entirely in what some believe to be the long-lost language of Akkadian— a language handed down from head of the soul division to the next head alone._

_The firing of Master Hermione Snape before a replacement could be trained has left the DRCMC without a current head of the soul-division and without any concrete method of containing the entities that have been freed— entities that had always had a caretaker and representative via the head of the soul-division._

* * *

**SSHG-SSHG-SSHG**

"Bhaal, stop teasing poor Harcourt!" Hermione called as the demon-dragonet gulped down an entire cluster of grapes by herself in front of the supposed carnivore.

Bhaal crooned at Harcourt inticingly before eating the last grape, and the larger gryphon looked absolutely despondent.

Hermione picked Bhaal up, set her on her shoulder, and walked over to where her pilaf was cooking. She stirred it, taking a whiff, and smiled to herself. She seasoned a huge haunch of beef and sliced a smaller portion off, levitating them both over to the side.

Alasie made a victorious chirping eagle screech as she pounced on the larger portion, and Harcourt plucked her off his haunch and redeposited her on her smaller and more appropriate piece. The smaller kit kept trying to take the larger haunch on, and Harcourt used one taloned foreleg to push her away as he ate his dinner.

Hermione pulled out a creepy looking tree figurine from the shelf and held it out, chanting in a long-lost language. The tree glowed, and eerie fruits formed on the branches. But for a moment, the ghost of wings unfolded from her back, flapping, as her eyes were glazed over with the dark of a midnight sky. Her skin glowed with ancient runes as large, bestial, ghostly shapes gathered around the tree.

Long tongues snagged fruit from the tree, drawing them into mouths with too many teeth. Shadows formed into shapes, materialising just long enough to get a meal and swirl around Hermione like a caress before disappearing.

There was one glowing fruit left on the branch, and Bhaal snapped it up, munching noisily before making a petite burp.

Hermione's eyes returned to normal, and she shrugged as if shedding water after a rain. She placed the tree back on the shelf.

"Feeding the hungry soul-eaters?" Severus asked, his talented mouth affixing to her neck.

Hermione squeaked in pleasure as he embraced her from behind and placed his hands on her abdomen, purring in her ear with a low growl. "Who knew you could grow soul energy without sacrificing human beings?"

"Oh, I suppose I _could_ compile a list, but there are far more interesting things I would far rather be doing," Severus rumbled, his fingers roaming up her abdomen and sending jolts of electricity to lower places in her body.

Severus sucked gently at the skin under her ear, and Hermione shuddered and melted into his arms, all wobbles and shivers. "Hrm, like _that_ , my wife?"

Hermione made incoherent sounds, a whimper and panting mixed with random sound effects.

A wicked smile graced Severus' lips, and he worked a different sort of magic along the line of her neck and shoulder.

Dinner forgotten, Hermione found herself sprawled flat on her back on the affectionately monikered "soul-sucking sofa" with her ever-attentive mate somehow managing to both tease her skin and wrangle himself out of his innumerable buttons simultaneously.

The thought of all those buttons with his long, dextrous fingers moving across them caused Hermione's brain to shut down all of her core functions to rational thought and shift the blood towards "gimme", "now", and "mine, mine, _alllll_ mine."

There was no thought of any other male on Earth who could possibly put a check on every single box she hadn't even realised she'd been keeping on her private list of ideal traits in a future mate. Assuredly, that list had coloured flags and highlights on it, maybe even coloured ink circles and arrows making a concept map—

" _ **Severus!"**_ she cried, a rasp, a beg as his hands met the very happy to be touched breasts that were quite ecstatic that he'd paid _them_ some attention too.

His mouth replaced fingers as his hand roamed steadily lower where her legs had parted for his attention.

She was never so happy to have lost her status as the Great Virgin of Gryffindor to her new husband's dutiful thoroughness—

All because of one shy little kiss to the cheek that had missed and quickly become a heated soul-searing, binding, utterly unlocking tangled mess of utter beauty—

How could she have possibly known that he had been waiting for a sign— _any_ sign— of mutual interest over the veneer of professionalism and distance they had put between the other for fear of the other misunderstanding their intentions.

Magic had been waiting too, apparently.

With eager anticipation.

As had his heritage—

And no, _not_ just the tremendous fortune that had been squirrelled away.

Dark claws ran against the line of her spine, sending electrical jolts both up and down. Her eyes fluttered as his teeth— now sharper, deadly— pressed into her skin and teased her with both pleasure and a thrilling touch of danger.

No, the Ministry had truly shot themselves squarely in the arse, as it were—

Demanding soul-bindings—

And Bhaal had slithered out from the careful watch of the previous Head of the Soul-Division and blessed the couple with her very own brand of eternal mischief.

 _Literally_ eternal.

For as long as Bhaal, demonic dragonet queen of the insufferably cute (as well as manipulation and evil), existed, so too would her chosen beloveds— blessed with a little something more appropriately fanged and clawed. What good was having such harbingers if they didn't at least _look_ the part, hrm?

So, the Snapes would be gathering interest for as long as they lived.

Bhaal had rather enjoyed the fact that it would be far longer than any of those "idiotic fleshbags" could possibly fathom.

Hermione had to admit that such words coming from the tiny maw of something so adorable was discombobulating in the extreme.

And the claws and fangs were an unexpected, heated turn-on.

Oh and the—

The soothing warmth of Severus' huge wings wrapped her in a cocoon of comforting bliss, the feel of their undulation against her skin unravelling what was left of her self control. She clawed at his back, hissing, growling in desire for him, and his wicked, smug smile at what he did to her, was so very male and wickedly Dark.

Oh, so, perhaps their firstborn child or spawn might not be as fully human out the door running, but—

She really couldn't find it in herself to care all that much—

She had been the very first person, at least according to their tiny Dark Mistress, to treat Her with proper respect since she had been bound by the rules of the now-infamous "do not open" box. Hermione had never once opened the box, but had always cleaned and polished it, talking to her as if she were right there. She spoke to her kindly, if a bit awkwardly at first, and never failed to greet the box just as she would a person.

Hermione had believed that if a plaque said " _Eternal Dark Demonic Mistress of Dragonkind"_ that it was probably _not_ written there as a mere tasteless joke. All the more fool was the one who didn't respect something like that when you found the box sitting neglected on her boss' shelf.

Now that multiple people, Bhaal described as 'idiotic', had foolishly opened up her box, She was free to come and go as she pleased, but She preferred to remain close to Her chosen harbingers. After all, what better revenge was there than living well in spite of the disbelieving foolish sheep after injecting a judicious bit of 'evolution' into Her beloveds?

And Bhaal was so looking forward to many, many spawn from her chosen, ohhhhh, yes indeed.

That alone the miniature Dragonet of Evil was willing to encourage until the world was filled with their genetic footprints and the ghostly whisper of their wings.

Free of the accursed box.

Free of the Contract that had bound Bhaal once upon a time.

Free of having to work for some moronic pureblood supremacist-filled Ministry whose majority wouldn't know a true demon if it bit them on the nose—

And Severus and Hermione had enthusiastically explored their bodies together until the very Bloom that surrounded their home was teeming with everything from golden hinds to jumbo hens that laid gemstone eggs. The one or two Muggles who had tried to sneak in and steal from their little garden paradise had ended up either praising Bhaal as they plastered themselves on the ground in fervent prostration, blinded into stupefaction by venom-spitting mini quetzalcoatls, or else speared in the buttocks by an annoyed hind.

Draco Malfoy, the second one privy to their true status thanks to being soul-wed to one ever-observant former Luna Lovegood, was laughing himself into stitches.

Perhaps it was because his own unapologetic pureblood supremacist of a father was currently praising Bhaal at St Mungos as a permanent in-patient after having stupidly opened the _Do Not Open_ box looking for the secret of "Granger's inexplicable success"—

Perhaps.

Meanwhile, Draco's mum, Narcissa, was off enjoying what she wrote as being a relaxing tropical vacation in Bora Bora, blissfully free of all that "drama from home."

Hermione let out a satisfying scream of pure ecstasy as Severus sheathed himself fully inside her, and she enjoyed the low, sated moan of her mate as he emptied all the had inside of her.

Bhaal crooned with smug draconic approval on the windowsill, having perched there to amuse Herself watching as the garden hind speared another Ministry idiot in the rump and sent them packing, holding their eyes as they tried to frantically wipe the blinding venom away. The mini quetzals were fanning their feathered manes in frank disapproval of unwanted visitors— again.

When Hermione awoke the next morning, a nude Severus was spooned up against her back, his one wing folded and the other enfolding her. Bhaal had curled up in the crook of her arm, purring like a happy feline with Her ardent approval of all things as they were.

Life was _beautiful_.

Yes, indeed.

**SSHG-SSHG-SSHG**

Harry yawned as he Apparated to the Snapes' lush garden gate, pausing but only a moment to leave a generous food offering for the busy nest of mini-quetzalcoatls.

They hummed with approval, taking the pieces of meat and poultry to their ever-hungry youngsters and let the wizard pass unmolested.

He knocked on the door after carefully stepping over a large hen that had decided sitting in the middle of the garden path was a-okay for her, thank you very much.

"Come in, Harry," Hermione called out from the open window.

Harry opened the door, feeling the prickle of powerful wards opening to his presence, and walked in. "Hey, Hermione? Got any coffee?"

"Of course, waiting for you on the table, you shameless caffeine addict."

"Yes, and please and thank you," Harry said, enthusiastically grabbing the green ceramic mug marked "hArRY" in childish writing.

" _ **Unca Harry!"**_

" _ **Daddy!"**_

Two happy children promptly pounced on him from places unseen, gluing themselves to his arms and waist like baby monkeys.

"Nnngh!" Harry said, trying to save his precious coffee by hastily quaffing it down and supporting two children at once.

"Susan dropped Carrie off before you arrived," Hermione said. "She and Silas are going to school together once they—" she changed her tone to one of the universal mum, "- brush their teeth, get dressed, and eat their breakfasts."

Both children slinked off to do as ordered, trying to make themselves look as innocent as possible.

Harry chuckled. "How do you _do_ that?"

"I wrangled gryphon kits before I had children, Harry," Hermione said with a raised eyebrow. "Trust me, gryphon kits are far more of a handful."

Alasie and Harcourt raised their heads from their shared meal by the larger living room window. "Chirr?"

Three gryphon kits poked their heads out from between Alasie's and Harcourt's wings, making confused 'what-did-I-miss?' whistles and clicks.

Harcourt whumped his wing down on top of Huey, Dewey, and Lucy, forcing them to go back to sleep— or at least pretend to sleep as they plotted unholy mischief.

"You're really going to have to expand this place with all the gryphons in residence," Harry said with a wistful sigh. "This is like the only place I can say that considering that most wizards and witches would gladly give up their firstborn for a chance at having _one_ gryphon."

Hermione shrugged. "Not my fault that Harcourt was lured in by my prolific blueberry patch."

"And Alasie?"

"Not my fault that she tried to go for a fly during a storm and ended up face-planting into my chest?"

Harry looked skyward as if seeking divine guidance. "Mm _hmm_. Gryphon kits just so often fall from the sky, yeah?"

"I was hardly casting a falling gryphon spell, Harry," Hermione said.

"The one crate of a rare gryphon kit being transported to the Netherlands via broom carrier just happens to get hit by a sudden storm and drop his cargo right into your waiting lap?" Harry's Auror senses were tingling.

"To be fair, they _were_ smuggling her. She was stolen from a nest in Patagonia."

"That's entirely beside the point!"

"What's the point, Harry? Are you going to tell Alasie she has to go anywhere she doesn't' want to?"

Harry wilted as Alasie gave the mop-haired wizard a Snape-worthy scowl, sharpening her beak against the nearby stone. "Yeah, that would be a big _**no**_."

Hermione calmly sipped her tea.

The children had eaten breakfast, dressed themselves, brushed their teeth, picked up their lunches from the kitchen counter, and kissed Hermione and Harry goodbye before heading off to school, Carrie insisting on holding Silas' hand as they went. The dark-haired boy tolerated it with a miniature scowl, but he didn't exactly brush her off as they went on their way.

"Severus brewing into the late hours?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. "Emergency order from St Mungos. Somehow one of the inpatients got their hands on a wand, and they need everything from blood replenisher, enervating, and Pepper-Up potions. Apparently a child visited whilst contagious too and gave half the wards the zebra Crup-cough."

"Disturbing, that—" Harry said, shaking his head in dismay. "Bad enough you cough incessantly like a barking dog but to break out in purple zebra stripes seems pretty awful to me."

"It's the severe itching that is the really bad part. The cosmetic stripes would just be somewhat amusing, I think," Hermione pointed out.

"Susan saw Ginny while out shopping in Diagon Alley the other day," Harry sighed. "It almost came to fisticuffs and wand fights."

"Ginny _still_ trying to blame Susan for her own failure to keep a fidelity charm?" Hermione asked, tutting.

Harry sighed again. "It wasn't me that went sleeping around with an entire Quidditch team and got it plastered over the South American Wizarding newspapers, complete with loads of rather risque photos, but you'd think it was the way Molly talks. Arthur apologises profusely for her behaviour every time he walks by the Aurory to visit on Tuesdays. Thankfully, Susan is mellow enough to keep _me_ on an even keel on the bad days, so her dealing with Ginny was not as stupid as it could have been."

"Well, if Amelia is any testament to even temperament and solid good judgement, then her niece has a fine heritage to pull from," Hermione said, smiling fondly. "Amelia was over here for tea the other day and we laughed about how stupid things are in the DRCMC ever since I left. Oh, sorry, was _forced_ to leave."

Harry sniffed in disdain. "Served them right, really," he agreed. "Amelia tries to teach the newer Aurors how not to repeat the stupidity their older generation committed by opening 'the box' as it were, but honestly, it was just Ron who gave the Aurors a bad reputation for that bloody cockup. You don't see Proudfoot or Savage going about opening ancient demon boxes out of sheer arrogance and boredom."

"Well, she's probably just trying to remind them that one unthinking act can affect all of them as well," Hermione speculated. "She can always go sic Master Morgan on them if they need a good cuffing about the head and neck."

Harry sputtered. "Siccing a terrifying giant dragon bat on my Auror trainees will not help much, love."

"Might," Hermione said, a cheeky hint of fang showing.

"Siccing _you_ on my Auror trainees won't help either," Harry said, waving her off.

"You could always borrow Bhaal's box—"

" _ **NO!"**_ Harry yelped. "It's far safer where it is, thanks."

Bhaal chirred sadly with disappointment from Her perch on the windowsill where She was trying her best to soak up every last drop of the ambient solar energy.

Hermione scooped Her up, earning herself a radiating croon of approval that involved Dark energy flares and phantom tentacles. Bhaal zipped into her hair and nestled against her warm neck. "We won't talk about Her recent little adventure riling up the masses in Mungo's new Ministry idiots' ward."

"Wait, is _**that**_ what started the—"

"No, Harry," Hermione chided him. "She wants people to serve Her, and to be fair, the chaos doesn't start when She arrives. It starts when She leaves and they make up their own ways to prove themselves to Her. The incident at Mungos that Severus is brewing for was just some idiot giving another idiot a wand."

Harry wearily rubbed the space between his eyes with two fingers. "I keep telling myself I've seen it all, and then I realise that I really haven't. _Again_. Like Draco's kids going to Muggle school before Hogwarts. Never saw that one coming."

"Peer pressure," Hermione said, smiling. "Scorpius refuses to be left behind when Silas and Carrie get to go to school."

Harry shook his head. "I can't say I've ever experienced that kind of peer pressure."

"You had plenty of other pressing issues to iron out, Harry," Hermione said fairly. "Like saving the world, et cetera."

"More like you keeping us all alive so I could actually survive to heedlessly throw myself into harm's way again and again."

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose that too."

"Admit it, Potter," Severus' low-voiced growl came from the door leading to the laboratory, "you were an utter _imbecile_. Fortunately, you seem to have grown out of it at long last. I never believed it possible, but apparently I _can_ be wrong. Albeit on the exceedingly rare occasion."

Hermione's face lit up in delight as Harry's quickly went from indignation to resignation and then acceptance. She rushed into her weary husband's embrace as his arms wrapped around her with a possessive, all-encompassing welcome to his witch's loving attention.

"I _might_ have been wrong too—" Harry admitted, having already spent many a long hour defending Severus against multiple thick-headed comers but having taken some time to personally accept Severus' presence in his best friend's life.

Huey, Dewey, and Lucy chose that moment to slam-tackle Harry from behind and shove his face down into the plump cushions of the nearby settee. They curled up in a pile on his back, pinning his helplessly flailing self down as he tried not to smother himself.

Severus leaned in to give his wife an ardour-filled kiss as they both ignored Harry's cries for assistance from being bushwhacked by three ornery little gryphon kits.

"Shall we order takeaway Thai this evening?" Hermione said cheerfully as her husband was finally forced to breathe. She eyed Harry who mumbled something unintelligible into the cushion he was currently face-planted in.

"Sounds like an affirmative to me," Severus said, licking his teeth in clear anticipation. "Bangkok duck for me and the mango curry for you, love? And I believe Mr Potter favours the drunken chicken, yes?

Whether the anticipation was for the dinnertime meal or what came after remained a tantalising mystery.

* * *

**SSHG-SSHG-SSHG**

* * *

_**Prestigious Ministry Position Open!** _

_Head of the Soul Division, Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

_Must be an accredited Master of Ancient and Forgotten Languages._

_Must have passed all N.E.W.T.s with grade of Exceeds Expectations or Outstanding_

_Must be certifiably soul-anchored via soul-bond to a verified person, being, or deity._

_Must have passed stringent psychological testing of suitability for work with highly intelligent, immortal beings without risk of being corrupted._

_Must be able to convince Master Hermione Snape to share ancient language knowledge or be able to reliably decipher forgotten language glyphs._

_Must be able to survive one day in the office without going irreversibly insane._

_Must be able to successfully wrangle released demonic entities back into containment without alerting Muggles or alarming magical citizens._

_Must know how to use a soul-tree._

_Must know how to craft a soul-tree._

_Must know what a soul-tree_ _**is** _ _._

_Please apply at the office of the DRCMC by owl or in person._

_[a piece of parchment is taped over part of the posting with the handwritten note]_

_1000 (Crossed out) 2000 (crossed out) 3000 (Crossed out) 5000 galleon bonus will be awarded to any person who can successfully convince Master Hermione Snape to return to her previous position._

_300 galleon bonus will be awarded to the one who figures out how to get an owl successfully to Master Hermione Snape_ _**and** _ _receive a reply._

_[another piece of parchment partially covers that one]_

_**PRAISE BHAAL!** _

* * *

**SSHG-SSHG-SSHG**

* * *

**The End?**

_(Hissing whispers and Dark tendrils)_

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed this short! (This Bhaal is not affiliated with the God of Murder from Forgotten Realms— she's much cuter and probably infinitely more evil.)

Praise Dragon and the Rose for staying up to beta this fic. Much sleep was lost. I love her.


End file.
